Long is the waiting for the ones who fear
by Valaritas
Summary: "He hadn't asked for any of it. He hadn't wanted to fall in love with her like a reckless idiot, he hadn't expected to be loved back and he hadn't wished for another bloody war. He'd fought enough battles already. Too many battles. Both of them had."


One hundred and fifteen hours, forty two minutes.

The five chosen Order members had gone to Sussex on Tuesday morning. It wasn't supposed to be very difficult: a little ambush, maybe a good fight. They had to return two days later.

Theoretically.

One hundred and fifteen hours, forty four minutes had passed since their departure, no news. McGonagall and Shacklebot had started planning a rescue mission. Everybody was nervous, scared and worried.

Draco hadn't slept in almost three days. He tried no to talk to anyone and spent countless hours sitting on the stairs, listening carefully to any sound outside. Thinking.

Always thinking.

Five members of the Order were missing: Charlie Weasley, Dean Thomas, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger.

_Hermione._

A lump formed in his throat just thinking of that name. One hundred and fifteen hours. Almost five days.

He hadn't asked for any of it. He hadn't wanted to fall in love with her like a reckless idiot, he hadn't expected to be loved back and he hadn't wished for another bloody war. He'd fought enough battles already. Too many battles. Both of them had.

And now she was missing and he, torn between hope and dread, was waiting near the door like a lost puppy, hundreds of thoughts swirling in his head.

_I should've taken her place._

_I should've taken her hand and ran away._

_I should've kissed her one more time. Just one more._

But Draco, cold, cynical Draco, wasn't able, willing or knowing how to say all those things. He didn't tell her how bright her eyes were when she laughed, he didn't tell her he had counted all the freckles on her nose and the moles on her back, like spots on a treasure map. He didn't tell her that when they kissed, she tasted like every good thing that ever existed and only then he felt as the loose pieces he was made of fell into place. No, he didn't say anything.

One hundred and fifteen hours, fifty minutes.

If another six hours went by without any information, an eight-member group was scheduled to Apparate in Sussex. He was among them.

There were six hours left and, for the first time in his life, Draco begged.

He begged to the Universe, to Merlin, Salazar and each one of Hogwarts' founders, to Circe, even to that muggle God they talked about so much and also to the Devil they feared. He begged for the door to open and Granger returning unscathed.

Then, he felt bad for not wishing the return of the whole group. Ater that, he felt stupid for even wishing something.

He didn't want to go on that rescue mission. He was too scared, scared of what they could find or, even worse, scared of not finding anything at all.

One hundred and sixteen hours, two minutes.

A loud noise broke the silence outside and the doorknob trembled. Draco stood up so quickly his body protested, his heart beating thunderously in his ears. But before he was able to, another person made it to the door.

_Please, please, please, oh please..._

Potter unlocked the door and a line of dirty, battered faces appeared on the threshold. People was gathering on the hall as he counted. One. Two. Three. Four...

A head full of tangled brown hair appeared between the crowd.

Draco's heart seemed to stop for a second, his blood frozen in his veins when above all the voices in the room he heard hers, clear as a bell.

"¡Draco!"

Before he had even thought about moving, he was there hugging her, clinging to her like he was falling and she was the only hold left. He felt her hands in the back of his neck, stroking him and he kissed her one, two, three times.

"Hermione. Hello again. Hello."

He wanted to say it then. _You are here. Thank you. I've missed you. I love you._ He wanted to say it but he didn't found the way to put in words the storm inside him. So he didn't. Instead, he rested his forehead on hers, breathing deep, his arms still around her.

However, she seemed to understand.

"I'm fine. It's okay, Draco, I'm fine." She whispered, comforting him.

One hundred and sixteen hours, three minutes. The clock stopped ticking.


End file.
